


What About Love?

by bandtenpizzahut



Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roommates, Slow Build, a drama but in story mode i guess???, a split second of septiplier, you and mark are best buds and work in a coffee shop together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-17 23:39:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9351620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bandtenpizzahut/pseuds/bandtenpizzahut
Summary: Heartbroken from a recent bad breakup and with barely any time at all to heal, you find yourself in the worst place possible when you develop feelings for your new blue-haired roommate.Updates every Friday between at 4 PM PST.Currently on hiatus.





	1. Prologue: The Five Stages

**Author's Note:**

> I've never really written anything before and posted it, so here goes I guess. Hope you enjoy! I'm gonna try and update this every Monday so if you like it, be sure to expect more every week!

Saturday, January 14, 2017, 2:55 PM 

"You're what?"

 ~~~~Everything had been fine so far, or at least it had seemed so. There was never any indication, never any single thought that crossed your mind, that something like this could even happen. Not until recently. He's been distant for weeks, but now that you think about it, the two of you haven't spent a single weekend together since you both moved into the new apartment. All your time was taken up by work to pay the rent and utilities, and he's...well, you're sure he's doing something to help, too. Right? You question in your head whether or not you really just heard those words come out of his mouth. Denial is always the first stage. Denial's false comfort doesn't last long, however, as he repeats what he said, looking you in the eye.

"I met someone else and I'm moving with him to Boston."

His words cut though the air, each word sounding like glass shattering all around you. Your world is crumbling. Boston is on the other side of the country. Not once in your relationship did you ever think of the possibility that he could just leave you for someone else. Not when you've been together this long. Not after moving in with you. Not after all the road trips, the vacations, the shitty dinner-and-a-movie dates that you secretly enjoyed. Not after all the laughter, the tears, the "I love you"s and "I hate you"s you've said. Denial is losing it's comforting grip.

"What? Why-with who?"

"Um," he hesitates, "Roman," he says softly, but firmly.

That's something you've always loved about him. He was always blunt in his delivery, saying just what he needed to get his message across; nothing more, nothing less. Now he hits you on the head bluntly with the name Roman. Roman's definitely been around, and you've definitely met multiple times before. From the six or so conversations with him, you could see there was a lot going for him. He's easy to talk to, always the first to crack a joke in an awkward situation and definitely wasn't hard on the eyes. You'd probably date him if you were single. Now you just found out your boyfriend would definitely date him even if he wasn't single himself. There was something off about him, though you could never really put a finger on it. Could it maybe have been because...no. He couldn't have been dating your boyfriend while you were.

"Roman? Roman...Pearson? Like...our neighbor Roman Pearson?" Your question is answered with a nod. Though you usually can, today you just can't read the expression on your boyfriend's face. "You've known him, what, 3 months?"

"Actually we, uh...we met in June," he admits. 

It was getting hard for you to keep your cool, but as he piles more and more to this story, it was understandable. You stand up from the couch. "June?! You two met in June?! While we were moving in?!" All you could do right now was ask questions. "You two met 7 months ago?!"

"Yeah, but I-I didn't think it was going to turn out the way it did-"

Anger, the second stage. "Well, how did it turn out, huh?!" 

"I don't really wanna te-"

"Excuse me?!" You were livid. "No, you kept another boy from me for 7 months, damn right you're gonna tell me! What happened?!" You glared at him expectantly. 

After 5 seconds of agonizing silence, he began. "We had talked before while we were bringing boxes into the house and he kinda helped me get settled in while you were finishing up class. Then, about a week after we had settled in, he asked me out for dinner. Now, I thought it was just a neighbor thing, like he was welcoming us into the neighborhood. Turns out he had asked me out on a date and that night he um...he kissed me."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"No, I didn't. You had finals, I-I couldn't put you in a situation like that. Letting you know I went on a date with someone else."

"And that's the only reason you had?"

"Yes, I promise. I was thinking about you the whole time."

His reasoning made no sense in your head, but you could see how it made sense to him. He was always the kind of person that did the wrong thing with good intentions, and you appreciated and loved that about him. But this. Oh, this takes the cake for the worst thing he's ever done. You knew there was another reason he didn't tell you. You know how he acts when he's hiding from you because he wants to "spare your feelings", but you knew why he was doing this. It's impossible for you not to at this point, after all the time you've spent with him, getting to know him.

"No, Jackson," you began, "you weren't thinking about me. You were thinking about yourself. It's more than just you wanting to spare my feelings. Otherwise, you would've told me about this after I was done with finals. You wouldn't let this go on for months, unless you wanted it to. You didn't take the chance to tell me because you wanted to-to have him to mess around with while you kept what you had with me. You wanted to keep him from me because once I knew, you had to give him up and you'd be back to having one boyfriend. Well, you know what that tells me, Jackson? That tells me that...that I'm not enough for you. That you got bored with me. That-that you weren't happy just being with me." 

"You know what? You're right. I wasn't." His words took you by surprise, slapping you in the face. "You always had work. And if you didn't have work, then you had class. I saw you once, maybe twice a day. Do you know how many times I had to eat alone at that table and stare at the empty plate across from me because you texted me saying you'd be home for dinner? I don't even remember the last time we went away somewhere for even a weekend. Of course I didn't want things with Roman to end. When you weren't there, he'd check on me every now and then to make sure I was okay. He took care of me. Took me out every now and then. I felt...good."

"So you liked the attention, is that it? That's the reason why you kept things going with him? That's why you're just going to leave me? What about trust? What about commitment?"

"That's kind of-"

"What about cooperation? Of all the possible solutions for this conflict, _this_ is how you decide to solve it? You go out and date someone else behind my back and _**let it get to the point**_ -" you slam your hand on the couch next to you. Realizing how unbelievably angry you are, you decide this isn't the way to face this problem and take a deep breath before continuing. Bargaining is the third stage. "...of moving with him to the other side of the country? What about communication? You could've talked to me about this and we could've worked things out. Set a schedule so you don't feel alone. I don't ever want to make you feel like you're not a part of my life because you-...you're the best part of my life right now and I love coming home late at night and-and seeing you sleeping on the bed. What about consideration? If I skip work, I don't get paid, and if I don't get paid, we can't pay the rent. I do all of this so that you and I can have a life together here." A tear begins to spill over your eyelid. "What about love? I love you."

"I love you too," he says, but you detect an undertone of pain in his voice, "but he gives me what you can't anymore: his time, and I...I love him more now."

You could swear your heart stopped and broke in half right then and there. In that exact second, all time stopped, and you were frozen. Frozen, eyes glazed over, fixated on the only man you've ever loved, and he took all the love and joy from your life in a matter of minutes. He too, seems devastated, as if he had come to this realization just now. There is an eternity of deafening silence between the two of you, and although you're no more than several feet from him, it feels like you are entire worlds apart. Sadness is the fourth, and often the longest stage.

"So...that's it?" you manage to whisper. "You're just gonna throw 4 years away. Just like that. Just because I'm too busy supporting us?"

"I'm sorry," he says, stone-faced.

"Don't apologize," you chided, "I should. I guess I wasn't good enough for you to want to work things out with me." 

"I guess we're both at fault."

"Yeah, I guess we are."

More silence. More pain. More sadness. More weight. 

"I, uh...hope you can find it in you to be friends," he adds.

This sends you whirling back into anger. See, like many things, the road to healing is far from the straight roads in Los Angeles. It's much more like the roads in Boston: in essence, a mess. It curves, winds, twists and turns and bends in on itself in three dimensions. Your emotions are in constant motion - thrown back and between the five stages in an erratic and disorganized fashion, driving down the Boston roads with no apparent destination. And it's exhausting. So now, here you are, the dark clouds of sadness whisked away the winds of anger, and the fire that comes with it ready to deal damage.

"No." you begin decisively, stoking the fire. "Not ever. Not after pulling this. You can't...complain that you don't get time with me because I'm working to pay our bills, and don't put in a single goddamn ounce of work in yourself. And you're sure as hell not going to abandon me and expect me to stay in contact with you while you jump from person to person trying to find the perfect one. No."

"It doesn't have to be this way," he argued.

You begin to raise your voice. "No. You're not going to get everything you want this time. You should've come to this knowing what you're giving up. You should've been smarter about this, like with every other mistake you've made!" you shout. "Get out!"

He raises his voice in response "I just want to know that you'll be alright!"

"You get nothing from me anymore! Just get out!" You are appalled and infuriated by his audacity.

"Will you at least forgive me?!" He pleads, desperate for your validation of his decision. You stomp on the ground, unbearably enraged.

"NO! You know I love you but you _still do this_ _!_   _NO!_ _GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!_ _"_

The house falls silent. A tear falls on the floor. In the distance, a dog barks and the upstairs neighbor's bird chirps. The two of you stand completely still, at a standoff. You erupt once more.

 _"GET OUT!"_  

And again.

 _"GET OUT!"_  

And again.

 _" **GET! OUT!"**_

Your voice squeaks, exhausted. Jackson slowly makes his way past you and opens the door. You don't turn around. With one last look at you, hand on the couch, sobbing profusely, he walks out and closes the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the depressing opening chapter, but things are definitely going to go up from here! I'm going to try to update every Monday so if you enjoyed it, just know there's more to come!
> 
> Next chapter:  
> -A look into the Reader/Mark friendship  
> -We meet Jack, Ethan, and Amy


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dear friend pulls you out of a depressive slump, Ethan finds a place to live, and a certain someone pops into Mark's life.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017, 11:29 AM PST

_Click._

You breathed a shallow sigh of relief, having put the roommate ad online after letting it sit on your computer for 2 days - the most emotionally taxing 2 days of your life. With glazed eyes and a blank expression, you looked around your room. In the past two days, you've seen a collection of mundane things that, individually, didn't do much for your apartment aesthetically but gave the place a warm feel as a whole, disappear. A blanket, half the clothes in the closet including most of the shoes, products from the bathroom, paintings and other decorations downstairs in the living room and kitchen, especially that bamboo centerpiece on your coffee table: all his, and now they're gone along with any evidence that he once lived here. Now, the house seems plain, and cold, and dead. _Who would want to live here, or even come over to visit?,_ you thought to yourself, afraid to ask the question out loud. You let out a deeper, exasperated sigh. You've heard your friends tell tales of their bad breakups and always thought to yourself that breakups are easy to get through and that everyone was just being a crybaby about it. You rolled away from the computer in your chair, leaned back, and thought to when you had to help Mark get through his breakup with Jack a while ago:

\-----

_ monday, february 17, 2016, 4:12 pm pst_

_Holding two hot bowls of soup in each hand and an unopened box of Cheez-Its under your armpit, you made your way carefully to where Mark was on the couch in his living room. He took up a little over two-thirds of the couch, laying on his side, wrapped up in a deep green blanket - the last present Jack ever gave him - sobbing and blubbering. It was almost comedic from an outsider perspective. An outsider like you, for example._

_As you rounded the corner of the couch to set the food on the coffee table among the used dishes and empty tissue boxes and sat down, you couldn't help but let out a snicker. Mark, usually a person whose stature is enough to intimidate anyone that meets him for the first time, now appeared so small to you. Your face softened as you laid a hand on him. "Hey," you said softly, "I made some soup and bought some more Cheez-Its. I know how much you like Cheez-Its."_

_Sniffling, Mark slowly sat up, then hunched his back as he let out a shaky sigh, another tear falling down his red face. He didn't say anything._

_"Why don't we get our minds off it," you suggested, pouring the box of Cheez-It's into a crumb-sprinkled bowl on the coffee table. Mark shook his head and made a whining noise. "Okay, then...let's maybe talk about it. How do you feel?"_

_Mark squeezed another tear out of his eyes, struggling to speak coherently through his sobbing. "I dunno...sad...confused...angry...im really really saaaad..." he wailed, collapsing into your arms._

_"Oh noooo, buddyyyy" you mock-wailed, much like how a mother matches her crying toddler's tone of voice when they're crying. "I'm so sorry you're going through this, but hey, let me tell you, you're gonna be alright, okay?" you comforted._

_"It hurts," he sobbed._

_"I know, man. I know. Breakups suck. And right after Valentine's day, too."_

_"No, it hurts," he said, a little clearer this time._

_"Yeah, I heard you."_

_"No, your knee is digging into my side," he complained._

_"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry," you chuckled, letting him sit up again. You thought Mark would've at least done one of those nose-exhale-laughs, but nothing. "Wow, you're really down in the dumps aren't you?"_

_Mark replied with a melancholy stare and a single nod. He sighs and grabs a handful of Cheez-Its from the bowl, sniffling every now and then. "I'm so tired from all the emotions. It's like...you're constantly going back and forth between anger and sadness and frustration and confusion and regret and, like...I'm just so tired. And I miss him." His voice broke again as he popped another Cheez-It in his mouth to stop himself from falling apart again. He was right though, he did look pretty tired. You didn't notice the bags under his swollen eyes and the way his lower jaw hangs almost lifeless from the rest of his face. He looks as if he could knock out at any moment._

_Knock out..._

_Knock..._

_\-----_

Tuesday, January 17, 2017, 11:33 AM PST

_...knock._ You turned your head to the sound of the door creaking and took in the sight of Mark walking into your room with a bowl of soup. You'd forgotten that he came over once you told him about the break-up. He sets the bowl down on your computer desk before sitting down on the foot of the bed, next to where you were reclining in your chair, deafeated. Your gaze returned to the ceiling as you let out another sigh.

"We're pretty different in the way we handle breakups. You're not much of a crier, are you?" Mark asked.

"Oh, no, I've done my share of ugly crying," you confessed, "You should've seen me the day after it happened. I didn't get out of bed for a whole day. I just cried and cried and cried...good to get it all out of the way in the beginning, I guess." 

Mark laughed softly. "Wait, but wasn't Jackson there getting his things?"

"Oh, _god_ , yeah." Recalling that fresh memory made you cringe.

"Oh, yikes. That must've been awkward," Mark noted.

"Uh-huh. I tried to make it seem like I was asleep, so I toned it down whenever I heard him stomping up the stairs. But when he left the house, oh, boy, you could sink the Titanic with the tears I cried on Monday _alone,_ " you joked.

Mark let out a cautious, but hearty laugh. "Well, you seem to be doing okay now. Are you?"

You let out yet another sigh and shook your head. "No...not in the least." Your answer made Mark's face soften up in empathy.

 "I'll tell you where we're different when it comes to breakups, though," you prefaced, piquing his interest, "you eat  _profusely,_ and I don't eat anything at all." You glance briefly at the still-warm bowl of soup Mark brought up. "I remember when you and Jack broke up and I came over, you must've said you were hungry like a hundred times."

"Why don't you eat anything?"

You shrugged your shoulders, eyes still glued to the ceiling. "Meh, everything tastes bland. Eating feels like a chore. I don't know man, breakups make me feel lazy...and bitter. I just feel so empty, you know? I was saving up for the past couple of months 'cause I wanted to surprise him with a trip to Seattle during the spring - he's always wanted to go to Seattle - and now...I just don't know what to do, man. Like, what's the point?" 

There's a long, but comfortable silence. Mark looked at you empathetically, his brain working hard to scrounge up something he can say to you. He was never one to give advice. It was always you. You were the one friends went to for advice. Your confidence in yourself and positive energy made you the likable, all-around good friend some people can only dream of having. Now, here you are, broken down and bitter, sitting lethargically in a chair and staring at the ceiling. If he couldn't think of anything on his own, why not re-use some of your advice?

"Do you remember what you said to me when you were sick of hearing me moping like an idiot?" he asked.

You take your eyes off the ceiling and looked at Mark.

"You are not any less the person you are without him. Because you are unapologetically you, someone out there made the decision that you were worth getting to know on a deep and intimate level, and even though he's not in your life anymore, you are a richer, more whole of a person because of the love you two shared, and nothing or no one will ever take that away from you. And who's to say there won't be someone else who thinks that you are worth their love?"

Upon hearing those words, your eyes softened, and your lips curled into a gentle smile. The idea that someone remembered what you said to them in their time of need and held on to it made you feel significant, like you made an impact on someone's life. The thought of that made you well up with tears and filled your heart with warmth. The road to healing is long and messy, but this is the start of it. You managed to squeak out a grateful "thank you" before letting your emotions overcome you.

"Now, are you gonna eat your soup? It's getting cold..."

* * *

 Wednesday, January 18, 2017, 11:56 PM EST

Ethan closed his laptop, let out a frustrated sigh, and leaned back on his bed, combing his fingers through his bright blue hair. This marked the third unsuccessful day of looking for an apartment - or even a room at this point -  in L.A. Everything he's found so far was either too expensive, too far away from where he wanted to apply to school, or too...weird. Now that he thought about it, he came across way too many strange descriptions and rules for roommate ads. _Probably should stay away from craigslist,_ he thought, and closed the tab.  


Wanting to take a break from his fruitless search, Ethan got up and began pacing about his room. As he looked around his room and out his window, he smiled gently, and began to feel a pang of insecurity about his decision to move. There were so many things that he loved in Maine. So many things he'd leave behind and miss. For one, he'd miss how beautiful it was here, and seeing the seasons change right in front of him every few months. He loved how some of the buildings looked old. He loved how he knew everyone in his neighborhood, from the 80 year old lady down the street who's been here since she was born to the couple next door who just had a baby last week. Most of all, he loved his friends, who he grew up with and practically considered family at this point. As for his parents, well...that's a story for another time.

Despite that, he was in a great place, and never went a day without appreciating where he was, which begs the question: was this worth leaving behind? This question has been looming over Ethan's head ever since he began preparing to move, during which he would shift between 'yes' and 'no' as the answer, sometimes multiple times in one day. As a result, his uncertainty gave way to doubt - doubt that he felt now more than ever. He had begun to think of his dad and the question he asked him: what does L.A. have to give that Portland doesn't, and are the possible rewards going to outweigh the risk of moving to the other side of the country and practically starting over in regards to making a name for one's self? His pacing accelerated. Maybe the fact that he couldn't make his mind up is a sign he shouldn't be moving. Maybe his dad was right to question his actions. Everything's too expensive over in L.A. anyway.

Ethan sat down at his computer desk. As he kept his head down, trying to relieve himself of his dizziness, he caught sight of the box that contained his camera and his recording equipment. Once his regained his bearings, he picked up his camera and just looked at it. He fiddled with it purposelessly, turning it over and around, opening and closing the battery compartment, and playing with the flip screen. He thought of what this camera meant to him, and how important making videos was to him. He thought of the people that he watched who lived in L.A. and how they used their platform to send brightness into the world and make people happy, and inspired him to make things of his own, and then he thought about how much he wanted to do that same for people.

Then he thought about how far away they were, and then about how if he could get closer to people that did what he did, then maybe he could learn from them, and maybe even work with them. Just the thought of one day working with the people he looked up to brought fire to his eyes. He suddenly became confident again in his decision to move, and pushed aside any doubts he had, both from himself and anyone who's ever told him that his dreams were impractical or that he would never make it. With newfound passion, he got up from his desk and walked back to his bed, opened his laptop, and refreshed the page and then...

...there it was. Some higher power must've heard his silent prayers, or the stars had aligned and that had something to do with it, or maybe it was just sheer coincidence. Either way, there it was: 

> _BEDROOM AVAILABLE_  
>  _WESTWOOD, LOS ANGELES, CA_  
>  _$680/mo  
>    
>  __Current occupant: 20, male, musician, go-with-the-flow_  
>  _Prefer: 18-25, financially stable, sociable, clean, easy to work with  
>    
>  __Residence:_  
>  _\- 2 bed, 3 bath house_  
>  _\- Outdoor swimming pool_  
>  _-Quiet residential area_  
>  _-Good parking_  
>  _-Close to UCLA_  
>  _-AC, cable/internet, in-house washer/dryer_  
>  _-Room is 14' x 10', furnished w/twin bed, chair, and desk_  
>  _-Pet friendly  
>    
>  __If you have any questions, don't be afraid to call or email! Most reachable by phone._

It was perfect. Everything he wanted - _plus a pool!_ Ethan's heart began to race with excitement as he reached for his phone and dialed the number listed. It rang a little longer than he would've liked it, which made him nervous. Maybe it was too late and the guy is an early sleeper. That definitely wouldn't make for a good first impression if you woke him up. On what seemed to be the final ring before it went to voicemail, you answered.

"Hello?"

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, making sure you weren't able to hear it over the phone. "Hi, I'm Ethan. If it's a good time, I'd like to talk about the room ad you put up."

* * *

Friday, January 20 2017, 5:12 PM PST

"...you should come with." Mark suggested to you, putting a lid on the coffee cup in his hand before yelling out the name written sloppily on it.

"Yeah, maybe," you considered.

"Yeah, it'll be nice to be outside for a change. You haven't gone outside since-" Mark was afraid to specify, but what else could he be talking about?

"Yeah, I know," you reassured. He had a point. "Okay, I'll go. But only for a little bit."

"Yeah! Awesome!" Mark cheered. You smiled at his stupid over-enthusiasm, but you can't help but feeling appreciative. He's shown you so much support since your disastrous break up. You probably wouldn't be here working if it weren't for him and his constant reassurances. He claims to be terrible at cheering people up, but so far he's doing a bang-up job. And what an asshole you were for not even thanking him about it yet!

"Oh, by the way, um," you said, "thanks for all the support these past few days, man. I really appreciate it."

"Don't even mention it," Mark replied. " Consider it me returning the favor from a couple years back."

"Alright," you accepted.

The two of you found yourselves in comfortable conversation for the next few minutes, discussing ideas, telling jokes, throwing opinions back and forth. Mark was such a great conversationalist. He was so open and apt to talk about absolutely anything with you, and you've noticed it more as he's been around you every day since Monday. You've also noticed how comfortable you were around him. You could be as much yourself as possible around him, and you were. It came to the point where you didn't want this constant contact with Mark to end, and you might've even asked him to move in with you if it weren't for somebody already calling in about the room ad you posted online a couple of days ago, which you completely forgot to tell Mark about.

"So someone called about the ad i put online," you mentioned.

"Really? That soon?" Mark asked, surprised. 

"Yeah. I was just as surprised as you are."

"Well, who was it? Did he...she...he seem cool?"

"He," you clarified. "His name's Ethan and - get this - he lives in Maine."

"Maine?"

"Yeah!"

Mark chuckled in astonishment. "So did he seem like someone you'd wanna live with?"

"Yeah, he's pretty chill. We talked for a bit last night and from what I gathered, he seemed like a real nice kid. I shouldn't say 'kid', he's 20."

"Oh, so he's your age."

"Yep."

"When's he thinking about moving in?" Mark inquired further.

"He's actually got most of the logistics figured out," you explained. "He's coming in sometime next week. He still has to confirm the actual day."

"Well, that's good for him. What does he do?"

"He's a youtuber. At least...he wants to be. He's not big yet, but he hopes coming here's gonna change that. Personally, I don't think just moving here's gonna do anything, but who am I to predict, you know?" 

"Yeah, you never really know," Mark pointed out. "Fame is unpredictable."

"True that."

You went on talking about the volatile nature of fame, seeing as there was no one coming to the counter. The coffee shop was relatively empty today, which seemed weird to you. With all the rain in L.A. recently, you'd think more people would come into the shop seeking shelter. But no, no one probably bothered to go outside anyways. People here would much rather nestle up in the comfort of their own homes when faced with rain. You couldn't blame them; you'd rather be at home yourself.

What was even weirder, however, was the entrance of a woman who seemed unfazed by the rain. She shook the water off her pastel-colored umbrella, stepped inside and took the hood of her raincoat off to reveal flowing blonde hair. Smiling, she walked over to the counter as she fixed her eyes on the menu. She wasn't too tall, but she had a presence to her. She seemed too cheery, in complete contrast to the overcast weather outside. Immediately, you decided that you wanted no part of her bright disposition, although admittedly, you could use a little bit. Thankfully, your phone vibrated in your pocket. Pulling it out of your pocket, you saw that it was Ethan calling. You called to Mark, shook your phone, mouthed 'Ethan' and motioned to the girl rapidly approaching the counter. Mark nodded and you hurried off and answered your phone.

"Hey Ethan, what's up? Okay, go for it..." As your voice faded into the back room, Mark stepped up to the counter, smiled, and asked "What'll it be?"

She looked down from the menu and at Mark, and froze for a split second, raising her eyebrows. She didn't notice the person she saw first at the counter leave and be replaced by this guy. He wasn't too bad looking. In fact, he wasn't bad looking at all. Damn.  _Okay, play it cool,_ she thought to herself.

"Uh...I'll have a...a, um..." God damn it. She hadn't even decided what she wanted yet, but she just felt the urge to start talking. She went on for about 5 more seconds before stopping entirely, her eyes back on the menu.

"If you need more time, just le-" Mark began.

"No!" You exclaimed, raising a hand from the counter. Yikes. Way to play it cool. "Um, how big is your medium?"

"16 ounces, about this big," Mark said, holding up a cup, smiling gently.

The girl nodded slowly, not even taking her eyes off his face to look at the cup. "Cool. Just give me a, um, medium iced dark roast. Oh, cream. Please. Oh! And, uh, no sugar."  This was her usual. Her go-to order anywhere she went. She was usually able to get that out in one sentence. What was it about this guy that derailed her train of thought, who tore past her unbreakable facade? And why wasn't he laughing at her as she stammered through her order?

Mark smoothly wrote her order down on the cup. He looked at her and smiled once more. "And your name?"

"Hm?" She heard what he had said, but for some reason, she wanted to hear his voice ask her again.

"Your name," Mark clarified.

"Oh," she said, laughing sheepishly. "Amy."

As he wrote her name on the cup, you walked back in. He was still taking her order? _Some customers just take longer, I guess,_ you thought. This customer seemed like a different person than whoever first walked in though. Sure, she looked the same, but seemed more clumsy and nervous that the woman who walked in two minutes ago. Oh. You realized what was happening. You've seen it before. The stuttering, the googly eyes. Too bad Mark was dense as a brick, oblivious to what was happening right in front of him. For some reason, you didn't quite like it, and felt yourself involuntarily stepping to the counter.

"I can take it from here," you assured Mark. As he nodded and walked away to start making the drink, Amy seemed to return to normal. "Uh, $2.80," you said.

"Alright," she said, reaching into her wallet, but not before taking one last quick glance at Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter:
> 
> Mark sees something that freaks him out, Ethan starts to freak out about L.A. and you start to freak about your new roommate just lots of freaking out


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You give Mark a reality check. Ethan calms his doubts one last time. You reunite with an old friend. Mark's recent past returns to him, and is given the option to face it head-on, or to complicate it further.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017, 8:28 PM

“Dude, you're so blind! It was right in front of you! The nervous talking, the giggling - you didn't notice any of that?”

“I had no idea!” Mark confessed, taking a final bite of food from his plate.

“Are you kidding me? I noticed it the moment I walked back in that first day.” You always had a knack for that sort of thing. You could read people instantly. Mark, however, could not. Oddly enough, his obliviousness still surprised you every now and again, like now, as you both sat around the island in your kitchen, finishing up dinner. The TV in the adjacent living room gave some light background noise as you laughed at Mark some more.

"You really think she likes me?" asked Mark, still in disbelief.

"Oh, totally," you said confidently. "Honestly, I had my doubts up until yesterday."

"What happened yesterday?"

"Well, you know how you're usually at the register on morning shifts and she started coming in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"And remember how yesterday was kinda slow in the morning so you wanted to chill in the break room for a bit?"

"Yeah."

"It was, like, a little bit after you left. Amy walked in, and I guess she was, like, expecting to see you or somethin-"

"There's no way she was expecting to see me," Mark denied.

"No, I'm  _sure_ she was," you insisted. "You wanna know why I'm so sure?" 

Mark leaned forward and scrunched his eyebrows in intrigue. You answered, "Because her face was all bright and shit when she walked in, but as soon as she saw you weren't there, her face just  _fell._ " 

Mark scrunched his eyebrows even further. "What?"

"No, I'm serious! I've never seen such pure disappointment on a person's face," you said, taking a sip of water. You chuckled, and quickly added, "It was kinda funny."

"So...is that it?"

"Oh, no, there's more," you continued, taking Mark's plate along with yours to the sink. "So then she orders her iced dark roast or whatever and i said 'your usual' to her - you know, to let her know that I knew her usual - and she made, like, a little face before she said 'yeah' as if it was, like, some secret that only _you_ knew."

"Well, in her defense, you've never really taken her order before."

"Yeah, but I've heard her order it before."

"Yeah."

"Anyway, then you walked in and she lit up like a Christmas tree and I told you to make the drink."

"Wow," Mark nodded, half-convinced.

"Yup."

You began to wash the dishes when a question popped up in the back of your head that you were hesitant to ask for some strange reason. It took some mustering up, but you did a few seconds later.

"So...are you going to, like, do anything about it?"

Mark made a contemplative face. His silence made you unexplainably anxious, but you were relieved to hear him say, "I'm not sure. Probably not." 

"Alright," you acknowledged, not looking up from the dishes.

Mark checked his watch. 8:32. "I should probably go. I promised myself I'd be out by 8:30."

"Oh, okay", you said, turning off the sink and drying your hands off. As you walked Mark to the front door, you brushed off the strange feeling from briefly discussing Mark doing something about Amy's very-possible crush on him.

"Thanks for coming. Again," you said, giving Mark a hug.

"No problem, dude. See you Friday?"

"You know it," you assured him before shutting the door. Alone again. Alone with your thoughts. It had been weeks now since Jackson left, but you still weren't used to seeing empty walls and shelves where there used to be framed pictures and memorabilia from your adventures as a couple. As much as you'd like to think you were well on your way to getting over him, here you were again, seemingly back at the start, one thought away from bursting into tears. You sighed as you took a look around your empty house and a tear spilled over your eyelid. Then another. It was only a minute from when Mark left and you were once again in tears, lying on the couch, thinking about the nights you've spent on this couch with Jackson, laughing at terrible movies or doing your schoolwork and getting annoyed while he talked about his day, and the arguments about life that you've had with him on this couch. How could you have let someone so good like that slip through your fingers? Where was all of this coming from, anyway? Weren't you over this? Weren't you just washing the dishes a minute ago? As you cried, your sadness turned into anger. Anger toward yourself. 

You hadn't been crying for long when your phone rang. You picked up your phone and saw Ethan's name. You wiped the tears from your eyes, took one big sniff and cleared your throat, trying your best to hide your minute of misery before answering the phone, "Hey, Ethan."

"Hey," a sheepish voice sounded from the other end, "sorry to call so late."

"No, it's fine," you reassured. "It's only, like, 8:30 here."

"Oh, yeah, that's right. Okay, then," chuckled Ethan.

"What's up?" you asked, thinking this was another question about house rules or closet space or something else small.

"I don't know, dude," you heard him sigh. "It's just...I'm having major doubts again about moving there. Like, I'm pretty freaked, actually." He was halfheartedly laughing in between sentences, but you could hear the genuine anxiety and fear in his voice. This was definitely something more than a small issue. 

You took a deep breath. "Well, you still wanna move, right? 'Cause there's no way I put all this work into getting this house ready for you just for you to back out."

"Yeah, o-of course I am," he responded.

"Good."

"I just-"

"Why?" you interrupted.

"What?"

"Why are you moving here?" you elaborated. "I mean, I know why, but I'd feel like a bad roommate if I let you live here without knowing a little more about you, you know?"

"Oh, um, well..." he began, "like, there's so much over there that I can't get here. Like, opportunities and stuff. I feel like I can get to more people and grow faster and-and, like, there's a whole community of people there that I'm inspired by who I want to be near and maybe even work with one day, plus the weather's really nice there and I-"

"Alright, so it's obvious that you really want to be here," you analyzed. Hearing him so excited about L.A. made you feel a little excited yourself about getting a new roommate.

"Yeah." 

"So, what's holding you back, dude?"

"Well...I mean, I'm leaving so much here, and I've never really lived anywhere else, so, I guess I'm a little scared." You heard a pang of sadness in his voice. You could almost see him shrinking and looking around.

"Hm...maybe we need to get you a little more excited about moving to L.A."

"How are you gonna do that?"

"Why don't I show you what's waiting for you here?" you suggested, pushing the FaceTime button. As the phone rang, you made sure there was as little evidence of crying on your face as possible. His face popped up on your phone as you made your way upstairs toward what would, on Sunday, become Ethan's room.

"Hey, nice to finally see you face-to-face," you greeted him, stopping short of the door to the room. 

"Yeah, you too! I have a feeling I know what this is," he said. His face showed a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

"Well, then, I'll skip the introduction and just go straight into your future room." And with that, you flipped to the back camera of your phone, opened the door, and walked in. The room was pretty plain and dusty considering it had never been used, but after a few days of dusting and cleaning up the room, it looked pristine, as if it had just been vacated. "Mister Ethan...Ethan, um..."

"Nestor," Ethan answered, confusion beginning to take over his face.

"Nestor! Yes, my apologies. Mr. Ethan Nestor, I present to you your awaiting abode in the city of angels," you said playfully. "First, a state-of-the-art twin bed from IKEA with a sturdy wooden frame and comfortable mattress, standard edition." You smiled as you watched him giggle. "Over here we have a sizable work desk, with ample drawer space for storage and optimal leg room, as well as a high quality rolling chair for seated mobility," you continued, panning over to the right. "The workspace is lighted by this designer window." As Ethan's face brightened, so did yours. He was pretty cute when he smiled. No, he was very cute when he smiled.

"Oh, and to answer your closet space question from a couple of days ago, let me escort you to our cutting edge closet," you said, walking to the opposite side of the room, and sliding the closet door open. "Not only is it roomy, but it boasts multiple organization options," you explained, showing the drawers, racks, and cabinets inside. "Impressed?"

Ethan was beaming. "Definitely. Can't wait to be there."

Your heart filled with warmth at his reply. "Good. Well then, if you have time, allow me to show you the rest of the house, Mr. Nestor," you resumed jokingly. "We'll continue with a tour of the downstairs living space..."

* * *

 Friday, January 27, 2017, 1:38 PM

 "...and then I showed him around the rest of the house 'cause, I mean, I might as well."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Mark replied, pouring milk into a large cup of coffee. "How long were you guys talking?"

"We ended up hanging out until, like, midnight."

"Midnight here?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, so, like, 3 AM there."

"Wow. What is that, like, 4 hours, give or take?"

"Yeah, a little less," you answered. "It was one of those things where we kind of just got to know each other. Like, he showed me his recording equipment and his setup and I showed him mine and we talked about how recording and editing songs is kind of the same with making videos and then we started talking about him making music videos for me and me making music for his channel and I don't know, we just couldn't stop until eventually, he got tired."

"That sounds fun."

"Yeah, it was. Definitely took my mind off being alone."

Mark nodded to you understandingly as he shouted out the name on the cup of coffee. He knew how lonely things can get after a breakup, and it couldn't be mentioned enough times how appreciative you are of his support and his friendship. You also recognized how he was pretty much his old self again after his breakup, but better, and it gave you hope that you would be there one day. You smiled to yourself as you turned around to help the next customer.

There was something familiar about the person who ordered next. He was neatly dressed, though oddly enough, his clothes looked like something you would wear. As you were about to greet him and ask for his order, it hit you.

"Felix? Felix Kjellberg?"

"What?" the man on the other side of the counter responded, wide-eyed. "How do you know know my na-oh! Oh, my god, hi! What the fuck?!"

The two of your shouted greetings at each other, and shared an awkward hug over the counter. Mark turned around, curious as to what was happening behind him.

"What are you doing here?" you asked Felix excitedly.

"I just moved back two days ago, actually, and I'm here 'cause I'm meeting someone in a bit," he explained. 

"Ooh!" you exclaimed. "Like... _meeting someone?_ _"_

"Yeah, we've only ever talked online and we're meeting for the first time here so I'm a little nervous, but I think it'll be fine."

"Yeah, man. Oh!" You were about to turn around and beckon Mark over but you were surprised he was already standing behind you. "Mark, this is an old buddy of mine from middle school and, like, the early part of high school," you said, gesturing to Felix.

"Hey, how's it going, bro?" he said, smiling and holding his hand out to Mark.

Mark took his hand and gave a firm handshake. "I'm Mark."

"How do you two know each other?" Felix asked.

"We met after you moved," you answered. "It wasn't very long after, too. It was, like, what, a few days?"

"Yeah, something like that," Mark agreed, not having much remembrance of it himself. 

"Cool," Felix commented.

"Alright," Mark said, I'm gonna head back; nice meeting you, Felix.

"Yeah, you too."

"So, what'll it be?" you asked Felix, getting back to business.

"Uh, I'll just have, like, a cappuccino."

"Alright," you said. "Type of milk?"

"I don't care. Whatever's best," he replied.

"Okay. $2.35."

As you swiped his card and took out his receipt, you took out a pen and wrote your number down. "By the way, if you ever wanna chill or talk or whatever, here's my number."

"Alright, cool," he said, taking the receipt. "Dude, really nice seeing you again," he smiled.

"You too, man," you said warmly. "And I hope your little  _thing_ goes well."

"Thanks," he laughed nervously as he walked away.

You turned back to Mark, astonished. "Can you believe what just happened?"

"Yeah, what a coincidence, dude," Mark replied.

"Felix Kjellberg. Man, I never thought I'd ever see him again. You know, we came out for the first time to each other back in 7th grade. In fact I had a huge-"

You were cut short by Mark's scrunched eyebrows. You followed his gaze to see Felix, hugging Jack and sitting down with him, both smiling brightly. You looked back at Mark. His eyes were fixated on what was happening a good distance away, but he didn't seem particularly devastated, or even fazed. "Mark, you okay?" you asked, walking toward him.

"Yeah, no, I'm good," he answered, his gaze getting longer as he began to resumed making drinks.

You've definitely seen him like this once or twice before. This was jealousy. First comes the gaze, and then the lethargic movement, almost slow-motion, as if he'd begun to exist in an alternate plane of time. And then it's only a matter of time before he does something stupid. It's odd; you thought Mark was completely over Jack. Not seeing someone you loved for a long time can give the illusion that you're over them. You turned back around, hoping this would pass through him quickly, and found Amy on the other side of the counter.

"Oh, hey Amy," you greeted her. "The usual?"

At the mention of her name, Mark snapped his head up and whipped his head around, and, in complete contrast with how he was not 10 seconds ago, moved quickly to the register. "I got this," he said to you, seemingly taller than he usually is. You stepped away from the counter, and as you walked away to make her drink, you flashed Mark a look that warned  _"don't do anything stupid because I know how you get when you're jealous"_. Mark responded with a look that said  _"I'm not gonna do anything"_. You found it hard to trust him, but you decided to leave him and make the drink.

"Hey," he smiled at Amy. "$2.80."

As she handed over the cash, Mark noticed there was a small slip of paper in between two of the bills. As he pulled the paper out to give it back to her, she held a hand out. "Keep it," she told him. Mark gave Amy a confused look. She explained, "It's got my number on it, and I've been meaning to give it to you for a while, so."

"Um, okay, cool. Thanks," Mark said, pocketing the paper. As Amy walked away, Mark turned around to you and mouthed,  _"Did you see what just happened?"_ to which you mouthed  _"I told you she liked you!"_ as a reply. Now the question becomes: was he going to take a chance on this girl?

* * *

Sunday, January 29, 2017, 6:42 PM

"Yes. I promise that's the right address. Yep. Where are you now? Okay, cool. See you in a bit. Yeah, me too. Bye."

Your voice was calm on the phone, but once you hung up, the panic was apparent. "That was him," you said nervously. "He's a few minutes away." You inspected the kitchen once more frantically, making sure everything was in order. You've been freaking about every single detail in this house from the very moment you woke up. You wanted everything in here to be perfect for his arrival, from clean carpets, floors, walls, and windows to perfectly distanced spices in the kitchen cabinet. Mark was there for most of this, too, hoping he could talk to you about what was on his mind with Amy and Jack and Felix, but he could barely catch you standing still, let alone catch your attention without making a scene. Instead he tagged along and helped clean and organize the house with you in preparation for Ethan's arrival.  


"That should be your cue to relax. If you go on cleaning any longer, he's gonna think you're neurotic by seeing how neat the place is," Mark observed from the couch.

"You know what, you're right," you admitted, placing both hands on the island and letting out a sigh. He was right. What if he thinks you're some neurotic neatfreak? It'll creep him out so much to see everything so spotless. "Maybe I should mess things up just a little bit-"

"No!" Mark interrupted. "Just...sit. Chill. I've been dying to talk to you all day."

You took a deep breath and sat down with him on the couch. "Sorry. It's just-I feel so bad 'cause I said I was gonna pick him up and then yesterday I told him I couldn't and-"

"And it's fine," Mark reassured you, placing his hands firmly on your shoulders. "The important thing now is that he's on his way here and you guys are gonna have a great first day." Mark looked out of the window at the setting sun and the darkening sky and amended his statement. "Night, I guess."

You nodded, letting yourself relax and breathe. "Yeah, you're probably right," you said, mostly for yourself than Mark. "So, what did you wanna talk about?"

"I just had some thoughts about...like, what happened yesterday," Mark began.

"Oh, like with Amy?"

"Yeah, but also with Jack and that, um...other guy." Mark snapped his fingers and scrunched up his face, trying to recall your old friend's name.

"Felix?"

"Yeah, him," Mark confirmed, pointing at you. "I don't know, it's just...believe it or not, that was the first time I'd seen Jack since we broke up."

"Seriously?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Yeah, and I guess seeing him with another guy made me feel a little...jealous? I don't know. I thought I was over it all, I was doing so well." Mark vented, frustration in his voice. "When I saw how he looked at Felix knowing he used to look at me like that...and then when I noticed that even they seemed ri-"

Mark's thoughts were interrupted with a  _ding_ from your phone. You grabbed it from the coffee table in front of the couch hurriedly, thinking Ethan was lost, only to see that it was a text from a new number. You unlocked your phone and read the text.

"Speak of the devil," you prefaced.

"Is that Felix?"

"Yeah. He's inviting us to a little housewarming party he's throwing this coming Saturday. He says he's, uh..." you hesitated and looked at Mark, who wanted you to get on with it. "He's excited to introduce me to the guy he met at the coffee shop yesterday."

"Oh shit," Mark cursed. "I'm not going."

"What? Come on. Felix is new back here. He probably doesn't know anyone but us and Jack. You gotta."

Mark made a contemplative face. You made a solid point, and Mark was kind of being a child about this. Yet, he still hesitated to say yes. Was he really going to let his jealousy get in the way of being there for a person who barely knows anyone. He's been there before. He remembered when he first moved to L.A. and didn't know anyone, and he definitely remember how hard it was to adjust to a new life here. He thought about you, and how you were there for him when he was new, and now he's going to be there for Ethan and Felix. 

"Fine," he finally capitulated. "It's just gonna be so awkward with Jack..."

"Is it really gonna be that bad? You'll have me there with you," you reasoned. "And who's to say it's going to be just us four? I can bring Ethan, too. That'll be good for him. And maybe Felix invited a few more people. Who knows?"

"Ugh," Mark groaned. "Okay."

"Great. I'll let him know we're both coming," you said as you tapped away on your phone. As you sent the message, the doorbell rang. Your head snapped up. All the nerves and anxiety came rushing back to you as you gasped. "Oh, shit. That's probably him," you said nervously.

"It's fine. You'll be fine. Just open the door," Mark nodded. You wanted to, but you found yourself frozen in place, staring at the door, knowing your life is going to change the moment you opened it. Why were you so nervous about letting someone move in? You have a good idea of who he is by now, you should be at least  _a little_ comfortable with it. "Go!" Mark exclaimed. With that, you sprang up and headed for the door. 

You opened it to reveal Ethan, the boy you've been talking to for a little more than a week, bags at his side. The first thing you noticed was his bright electric blue hair, which was a deeper blue in real life. He was a little shorter than you expected, but still around your height. His body language exuded excitement, showing most prominently in his smile. It was a cute smile. He was a cute boy. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn't help letting your nerves be flooded with it.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, giving him a hug. "Nice to finally meet you! Come in, come in!"

"You too!" he returned as he walked in. His eyes widened as he looked around the house. "Oh my god, the house is bigger than I imagined."

"Yeah, I thought that too when I first got the place," you said to Ethan, whose gaze fell on Mark. "Ethan, this is Mark, a really good friend of mine," you introduced. "Get used to seeing him often 'cause I have him over quite a lot."

"So, you're the famous Ethan. Welcome to L.A.!" Mark got up from his place on the couch to introduce himself to Ethan, but not before putting down his phone, having just moments ago texted Amy,  _"Hey, it's Mark. Wondering if you wanted to go with me to a little get-together this coming Saturday."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! I'll try to put future Monday updates up between noon and 3pm PST.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin to develop feelings for someone, while Mark makes an attempt to make his ex jealous.

_ Saturday, January 14, 2017, 8:52 AM _

You were awoken by sunlight peacefully filtering through the translucent curtains in your bedroom. You watched particles of dust illuminated by the early morning ambience dance around your room as you welcomed a new day with a smile. Something about this dim yellow surrounding you made you feel the warmth of the word 'home' inside of you, filling you up with a tranquil joy...for about 20 seconds. Your private morning was interrupted by the sound of a deep breath and what seemed like someone shifting their position behind you on the bed. Looking behind you, you were delightfully surprised to see Jackson next to you on the bed, facing away from you. A pulse of relief made its way through your body as your eyes soaked in the sight of Jackson's smooth chocolate brown hair and his sleek, curvy figure. His eyes. It seemed like it had been an eternity since you've seen those hazel eyes. Those eyes were a forest that you got lost in every single time you looked into them. You desperately missed seeing them. That doesn't matter now; he was here this whole time, and he always would be.

"Babe," your voice croaked softly, catching you off guard. You cleared your throat and tried again, "Babe, you couldn't believe the dream I had last night." You reached your hand out toward his bare back. "You left, and-and this kid from Maine moved in-"

Something didn't feel right. He didn't respond to your voice the way he normally would. As your hand touched him, he began to drift away. You couldn't explain what you were seeing. His body became beige and sandy, disintegrating right in front of you, taking every hint of warmth and love you had felt just moments ago with it, leaving you cold, but only for a second. The dim yellow glow that filled your room became an uglier, brighter yellow, and the air began to heat up. You felt it getting harder to breathe, and you began to swelter under your blanket, which felt like a ton on your body. The room was now almost a pure white, consuming the room around you, and as it closed in on a panicked you...

\-----

Tuesday, January 31, 2017, 9:01 AM

You threw the blanket off of you and you shot up from your bed, desperately trying to catch your breath with each gasp. You've had this dream dream before, but it's recently gotten more vivid. This time, it didn't even feel like a dream anymore. Subconscious denial is a real bitch. Once you had sufficiently calmed down, you dragged yourself out of the bed, trudged over to the window and pilled open the curtains to let in the light of the new day. The light came in slowly, as if to hesitate as well; as if it knew it wasn't welcome. Nonetheless, the sun brought a satisfactory shimmer of light into the room. You didn't seem to gain anything from it mood-wise. It was probably just one of those days. Well, it's a good thing it happened on a relaxed day such as this one, when all you had to do was work, and that started at 2. Still, you couldn't help noticing how the perfect blend of blue sky and bright sun created a near-perfect Los Angeles morning, and you wished you could enjoy it more. When were you going to get over this?

As you washed your face, you started to think about how truly different your life was now. A bad breakup, a new roommate, the return of an old friend: all of that happened in such a short amount of time and you didn't have too much of it to yourself to just reflect on it. Then again, that was probably a good thing. As it stands, your heart is like a messy room, emotions strewn like clothes all over the floor to the point that you forgot if you had wooden floors or carpet in your room, and that's just from the breakup. Buried under those are thoughts you had about seeing Felix again for the first time in almost 6 years, about how he and Mark's ex are now seeing each other, about your new roommate-

New roommate. You hung on to the thought of that blue haired boy for a bit, and you ever-so-slightly looked forward to seeing him in your house. The feeling was so minuscule, and buried under the tumultuous clusterfuck of other emotions that you had yet to sort through, but you felt it enough to be aware of it. You dwelled on the thought of him as you went on through your morning routine, only interrupted by the smell of food wafting in from downstairs. There's no way.

You made your way downstairs, the savory smells of breakfast only getting stronger and pulling you further toward your kitchen. Your eyes locked in first on a pan of sizzling bacon, then the sweet smell of bread brought your attention to another pan holding two slices of bread, which appear to be lightly seasoned. Finally, your eyes rested on Ethan, vigorously stirring a pan of scrambled eggs with a wooden spoon on the island. You noticed an open flame behind him, not heating anything up. He looked up at you and gave a warm smile, still stirring the scrambled eggs.

"Hey, good morning!" he greeted. Just then, a  _ding!_ from a timer you didn't know you had took his attention away from you. "Can you do me a favor and turn the heat off under the toast and and the bacon please?"

Almost involuntarily you moved toward the stove, turning the heat off on the two pans, all the while still processing what you're seeing. You know a thing or two about cooking, but this guy had, like, four or five different things going on! 

"Oh, and can you set them onto the plate?" Ethan asked, setting the pan of scrambled eggs onto the open flame on the stove, still stirring. You nodded and did so. "Feel free to take as much bacon as you want, but save, like three slices for me," you heard him say behind you.

All the questions in your head began to flow out of your mouth as you plated the food. "What the he-what is th-how do you know how to-"

"Uh, real quick, can you hand me the scraper?" Ethan interrupted, directing your bewildered gaze over to what you can only assume is called the scraper.

"Yeah, sure, I didn't even know I had one," you pointed out, handing the scraper over to Ethan, who took the pan off the flame once more and returned to the island. "You know, isn't the point of cooking putting something over a heat source, say, a fire?" you asked jokingly, referring to the pan of eggs Ethan was stirring off the flame.

"I don't want these eggs to overcook and get dry. Then it ends up tasting bland and smelling awful," he explained.

"Good to know."

"Well, these are done anyway. Can you season this?" Ethan continued.

"Yeah, sure." You couldn't take your eyes off him as he turned off the stove and placed the pans and cooking utensils in the sink, cleaning up quickly. It wasn't long before Ethan noticed you were about to over-salt the eggs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Easy on the salt!" he exclaimed, nabbing the salt grinder from your hands. "I like my kidneys, thank you very much," he added.

All you could say was a sheepish "Oops."

"Here, why don't you let me finish these?" Ethan offered. You stepped back, trying to hide your embarrassment as he finished seasoning and plating. The both of you proceeded to walk over to the dining table, beautifully illuminated by the morning sun.

\-----

9:26 AM

"How the hell did you learn to cook like that?" you asked Ethan.

"Well, in Maine I worked at a restaurant as a waiter and I'd just pick up little tips and tricks from the cooks and chefs there," he explained.

"Oh that's cool," you remarked.

"I also watched a lot of Gordon Ramsay videos," Ethan added.

You chuckled as you took a bit of the well-made breakfast. "Holy shit, that's good."

"Aw, thanks," Ethan said humbly. "By the way, I'm sorry I didn't ask if I could use all your kitchen stuff."

"No, dude, don't even worry about it. This is your house, too now. So, that's your stuff too. You don't have to ask." Hearing you say that made Ethan breathe a smile of relief. You went on, "I gotta say, I'm really impressed. You gotta teach me how to do this one day."

"Yeah definitely, whenever you're free."

Having breakfast with Ethan and all this talk about food made you forget about the past few weeks for a little bit. Right now, you seemed to be somewhat content, and you were definitely grateful to have someone to just talk to in the mornings again. The house felt a little warmer and fuller, not nearly what it was before the breakup, but definitely not the barren, harsh desert of memories it appeared to be a week ago. For the first time in weeks, you weren't in a terrible rush to get out of the house and do something to get your mind off of Jackson. All your focus was on the light coming into the room and falling on Ethan's deep ocean blue hair. He had some nice hair.

"So, tell me about the hair..."

* * *

Wednesday, February 1, 2017, 7:34 PM

"Ready to go?" Mark asked from the back room.

"Yep," you yelled from in front of the counter, putting on your jacket. You saw Mark exit the back room and close the door, locking it up.

"Pretty busy day, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah. Was it like this in the morning, too?"

"Yeah, it was pretty busy all day, and I haven't eaten since morning, so I'm really down for dinner right now."

"Ugh, same," you related. "Let me call Ethan to see if he's all ready. Thanks for letting me invite him, by the way."

"No problem."

Pulling out your phone, you dialed the number and let it ring. You had invited Ethan to go out for dinner with yourself and Mark, a tradition that the both of you had established when you both began working at the coffee shop. It was one of the few things you had to look forward to. While you awaited his answer, Mark pulled out his phone as well and began dialing a number, but before you could ask who he was calling, Ethan answered.

"Hey."

"Hey," you answered. "Ready to go? We'll be there to pick you up in like 15."

"Yeah, pretty much," he responded. "I'm trying to put together a good outfit, but outfit, but I'm pretty sure I'll be good by the time you get here."

"Sweet. See you then," you said, then promptly hung up, just as Mark was finishing his call as well.

"...but yeah, I'll let him know. Bye," You heard Mark say to this mystery person before he hung up. You could only assume that by 'him', he meant you.

"Let me know what?" you asked.

"Uh..." Mark hesitated. "That, uh...I invited Amy to our dinner thing tonight." 

"You invited Amy? But, like, this is our thing."

"You invited Ethan," Mark argued.

"Yeah, but that's different. I already told you: he's new and...well, you know, I thought this would be a nice way to show him around L.A.," you defended. "Why did you invite Amy?"

"Well, I was thinking..." he started. You knew where this was going.

"Thinking that what?"

"I think it might be nice to go for it," Mark said. "I mean, what do I have to lose?"

"Okay, but just last week you said you probably weren't and you don't really change your mind..." you pointed out, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. You've known Mark to be a pretty decisive man. Once he's decided on something, he sticks with it. In fact, you can't remember a time when Mark's never gone back on a decision he's made. Sometimes you respected him for it. Sometimes you thought he was pretty stupid. "...so what could've possibly happened between that time and now that-oh." You began to put two and two together, and the look on Mark's face let you know that he knew you were onto him. You squinted at him in suspicion. "Mark, this isn't about Jack and Felix... is it?"

"No," he said immediately. "I mean, I don't know...I don't think so...I mean, we were gonna hang out later anyway, so I-I thought-"

Later? What did he mean 'later'? Later as in...Saturday, maybe? Oh no. "Are you gonna bring Amy to Felix's thing on Saturday?"

"Yeah. Why, is that bad?" he asked defensively.

"No, it's just-..." you tried to think of a way to say this without offending him. "I mean, I just hope you're not doing this 'cause Jack-"

"No," Mark interrupted. "Why would you even think that?"

"Well, it's just that before that whole thing on Friday, you didn't seem too interested in her."

Mark didn't respond. In his mind though, he knew you were right. Or were you? He'd never really thought about it until now. Maybe that's why he always stuck with his decisions; he was a doer, not a thinker. It's a gift and a curse. But, god, this was happening so fast. His confusion and inability to sort out these thoughts as quickly as they came began to freak him out a little. He had to take the focus off him, and he had to do it fast. "Well, how do I know you didn't just invite Ethan 'cause you like him?" Again, Mark was a doer, not a thinker.

His response caught you off guard. Where did that even come from? That was an absurd accusation, but then again, the idea of you having feelings for Ethan was not entirely novel to you. The thought had popped in your head once or twice, coming up slightly more often on days you couldn't get Jackson off your mind, but to even consider it as a possibility? No. There's no way. At least, not for now. There was too much happening right now, like, for example, this tension that you were now trying to diffuse. You understood where he was coming from, though. You never brought Jackson with you to your Wednesday nights with Mark, and Mark never brought Jack back when the two of them were together.

"First of all, I don't like him. I barely even know him. Second, I probably shouldn't have pried. Your intentions are yours, and whether or not you decide to share them with me is completely up to you. Sorry I asked." You began to see Mark settling down as you rambled on. "The reason I did was 'cause Wednesday nights have always been our thing, and yesterday you said you were fine with Ethan coming tonight, so I thought it was just going to be the three of us. Then you sprang Amy up on me just now, so I guess I just-"

"Yeah, it was bad timing," Mark admitted. "Sorry."

"But yeah, she can come. It's cool."

"Great."

"But no more surprise invites," you added. "And I won't invite Ethan to Wednesday nights anymore if you want."

"Yeah. That'd be nice," Mark nodded.

The both of you held an understanding that these nights were important, but tonight, that understanding grew a little deeper. You gave Mark an affectionate punch on the arm and flashed a playful smile as you both began to walk out of the coffee shop.

"So, pick up Ethan or Amy first?"

* * *

 Saturday, February 4, 2017, 9:12 PM

_Ding!_

The four of you heard the doorbell ring from within the small house. The door opened almost immediately, as if Felix had already been waiting behind that door. Except it wasn't Felix. The four of you were surprised to see Jack behind the door.

"Hey! Come on in!" Jack greeted.

You and Jack shared a friendly hug, it having been almost a year since the two of you last saw each other. You introduced Ethan as your new roommate, who complimented Jack's neon-green hair. As Jack returned the compliment, Amy walked up and introduced herself. Jack was a little curious as to who she was; Felix never mentioned an Amy coming. Despite that, Jack welcomed her in warmly.

And then there was Mark. On the way here he had made it his goal to go the whole night without a single interaction with Jack, and now here he was, face-to-face with the person who broke his heart almost a year ago. Feelings of pain that he felt during those days began to come back slowly. 

"Hey, Mark," Jack said quietly, flashing an awkward smile.

"Hey, Séan," Mark replied coldly, holding a hand up in greeting.

"Your hair's not red anymore," Jack pointed out brightly.

"Nope. It's not," Mark confirmed as he walked into Felix's house, making as little eye contact with him as possible.

Inside the house, the atmosphere was a bit livelier. Felix had begun greeting everyone and offering drinks and giving thanks to all who came. His house was warm and inviting. The living room was just enough for the six of them to hang out without getting too cramped or too far apart to the point where the room seemed lonely. Playing quietly in the background was what you could only assume was a foreign pop song. Jack looked on as Mark began walking over to Amy, putting his arm around her and smiling. Did Mark seriously bring a date? Jack shook the thought off, closed the door, and joined Felix in welcoming the four of you further.

\-----

9:40 PM

"You've never had In-N-Out? Like, at all?"

"Nope," Ethan said, shaking his head.

Everyone else in the room gasped and exclaimed, almost as if he had confessed to committing a crime, spurring a playful outrage of 'how have you never had that?'s and 'what's wrong with you?'s.

Ethan, however, was incredulous about how great these burgers supposedly were. Had any of these guys tried the burgers from Shake Shack? "Are they really that good?"

"Are you kidding me?" Mark asked. "Ugh, they're so good - you just have to try it 'cause you won't believe any of us."

"But the menu is so small-"

"Because," Jack interrupted, "a simple menu is all you need. "If it ain't broke, don't fix it."

"Look, I'll take you tomorrow," you offered, "and I promise you'll love it." You smiled and looked into his glowing hazel eyes. They were very reminiscent of someone you once knew, but you couldn't put your finger on it at the moment. 

Ethan didn't break eye contact either, replying, "Okay, I trust you."

Felix began chanting quietly. "One of us, one of us, one of us..."

As people joined in welcoming Ethan as a future member of the In-N-Out fan club, their stare was broken. Ethan couldn't help feeling like he was about to join a cult, but he was going to try it anyway because he seemed to like the idea of getting to spend more time with you. But at the end of the day, it was just a burger, wasn't it? What was the big deal? 

\----

11:12 PM

"What about you, Amy?" Felix asked.

"What?"

"Tell us about yourself."

Amy was once again brought to the realization that this was the first time she had ever hung out with these people, and that they didn't know a lot about her. "Oh, uh, well, I'm a graphic designer, and I actually came here 'cause Mark invited me." She looked over at Mark, who smiled back awkwardly. "Thanks for having me here, by the way."

"No, it's all good," Felix answered. "I need more friends anyway," he joked.

"How did you and Mark meet?" asked Jack, who was sitting directly next to Felix.

Amy was taken by surprise, for it was Mark who answered the question. "She's a regular at the shop, and we just started talking one day, and, uh...now here we are." Mark scooted closer to Amy, keeping an eye on Jack to check for a reaction.

"That's nice," Jack replied. "Are you two...like, a thing?"

This prompted Mark and Amy to look at each other, as if to ask each other the same question, and they both answered at the same time. What wasn't the same, however, was how they answered. 

Mark had nodded "Yes", while Amy had answered "Not really". Uh oh. You and Ethan looked at each other in suspicion. Jack raised his eyebrow in confusion, paying close attention to Mark, who laughed awkwardly.

Felix laughed. "What?"

Amy, "I mean, we haven't gone on like a  _date_ date yet, but..." she looked to Mark, and she just couldn't resist going with it. "...you know what, yeah, I guess we are. And you and Jack?"

"Uh, yeah, we've been mostly online for a month or so and we met for the first time about a week ago," Jack answered.

"At Mark's shop, actually," Felix added.

"Wow, I guess a lot happens at the coffee place," Mark commented.

"And you're living together already?" she asked further. Mark felt an undeniable pang of jealousy at the idea.

"Oh, no," Jack chuckled.

"Oh, sorry!" Amy apologized. "I just assumed 'cause you answered the door and you two already seem so close."

Felix laughed, looking at Jack and scooting even closer to him. Mark couldn't help but move closer to Amy as well. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Mark discreetly.

\-----

11:56 PM

Mark set down an empty glass on Felix's kitchen counter and sighed, looking out of the window, anxious to leave. He had already given his 'thank you's and 'goodbye's to Felix and asked if he could grab some water before heading out. So far, there was no direct one-on-contact with Jack except for the exchange right at the beginning of the night and now all he needed to do was wait for everyone else to say goodbye and he's home free. It's too bad he would have to talk to him one last time before he left.

"She seems nice," Jack said, entering the kitchen. "Amy," he specified.

Mark sighed again, quieter this time, and turned around. "Yeah, she's nice."

An awkward silence ensued between them. Mark avoided eye contact as Jack was trying desperately to make it.

"Kind of awkward a little bit ago back there, huh?" Jack asked. He also threw in a little giggle in an attempt to lighten up the mood. However, his efforts were futile.

"Yeah," Mark replied coldly. The response was meet with more awkward laughter from Jack.

"So...do you like her?"

"Yeah, I like her."

"What about her caught your attention?"

"You know, her, uh...she's pretty funny." Mark couldn't think of anything else to say. What _did_  he like about her? "She's a really nice person and I wanna get to know her more, so..."

"That's cool." Jack inched closer to Mark. Mark took a quick look at his face and was surprised to see that it wasn't smiling sheepishly. He seemed a little more serious, like he had something to say that he's been holding back this whole night. "You know, uh," Jack started, "I can't get my mind off you lately."

Mark looked up, expressionless. "What?"

"I don't know. I felt bad about leaving you so suddenly. That was a really shitty thing of me to do, and I feel terrible about it." Jack expanded.

Mark's heart began to break again. As he noticed Jack moving slowly closer to him, he looked into Jack's eyes suspiciously. "What are you doing, Séan?"

"I didn't want you to think I don't care about you anymore, 'cause I do. I still care about you," he continued, still moving closer to Mark. "Anyway, I just wanted to say, um...I'm sorry."

Mark's brain was firing on all cylinders, conjuring up paragraphs to say to him, but his throat and mouth were frozen in shock as Jack moved even closer. Their faces were centimeters apart now. Heart beating fast, Mark closed his eyes, and as their lips were about to touch...

"Hey, Mark, you in here?" You called into the kitchen before entering, giving Mark and Jack enough time to rearrange themselves in a manner that showed no evidence of what had just happened. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah, whenever you are," Mark said, slightly flustered.

"Alright, well, come on," you beckoned. Mark walked over with you to where Amy and Ethan were waiting near the front door saying goodbyes and giving thanks to Felix for hosting. As the four of you left, Mark looked back at the doorway and stole one last glance at Jack's face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to develop between you and Ethan. Mark digs a hole he might never get out of. Jack begins to doubt who he has feelings for.

_ Saturday, January 14, 2017, 8:52 AM _

You’ve been here before. You remembered the soft yellow glow of this room, and the dancing dust particles, and you remembered the feeling of the blanket shuffling as someone behind you adjusted themselves. The worst part was you definitely remembered what was coming next. _Let’s just get it over with,_ you thought. You turned around and were shocked to see it wasn’t Jackson lying nearly unclothed next to you. Who was this mystery person? You definitely recognized him; he was smaller than Jackson was, but just enough so for you to notice there was a difference. It wasn’t until you looked up and saw a small hint of ocean blue hair that you recognized who it was.

Holy shit.

The sight of it all, the question of how he had ended up in here, the question of whether or not this was all a reality. It was enough to...

\-----

Tuesday, February 7, 2017, 2:12 AM

...jolt you wide awake. Whoa. You sat up, disoriented, shrouded in darkness. The only source of light came from the moon, and bathed the room in a dim blue-white ambience. You weren't out of breath, yet you were still taking fast, shallow breaths. Taking notice of the empty spot next to you on the bed, you sighed and sat up, leaning on your headboard. What did this mean? Well, you knew what it meant, but you rejected the idea, not even speaking of the possibility as it inched closer to reality. Your heart was still beating quickly, and decided you needed to take a break from sleeping.

You headed downstairs, careful not to wake Ethan as you walked by his room and down the stairs. You wondered if he was a light sleeper like Jackson was. He definitely didn't snore, at least not loud enough that you could hear it echoing through the hallway. You turned on a light that only lit up the island in your kitchen dimly, grabbed a glass of water, and sat down, all the while taking much needed time to be alone with your thoughts. Sip after sip, you let them flow. You thought firstly of Jackson, the memory of the day he left you still fresh in your mind, as if it had happened just this afternoon, but you felt nothing about it anymore. You simply accepted that you couldn't do anything to change it. Still, you wished he was here. It was strange, though. You missed Jackson, but you weren't quite lonely. Looking around what you could see of the living room behind you and the dining room to your right, you noticed it started to regain a bit of character. A used shirt on the couch, a pair of shoes by the doorway, a lone salt shaker on the dining table: they all contributed to the still-life diversity around the house. What changed?

As if to answer the question you asked in your head with its presence, a small figure moved out of the staircase and into the light. You immediately noticed the messed up blue hair.

"You're still awake?" you asked with a raspy voice. You cleared your throat quickly, embarrassed by the sound that came out of your mouth.

Ethan breathed a out a small laugh. "Yeah, I usually stay up late to edit videos." He proceeded to fill up a glass of water.

"Oh, you're recording videos now?"

"Yeah, I'm finally getting back into the swing of things."

"How's the sound and everything?" you asked as he approached you. "I don't really know anything about acoustics, so i just..."

"No, it's fine. I'm gonna buy some wedge foam some time later, but it's good as it is," Ethan reassured, grabbing a seat next to you.

"Good."

"Thanks for the In-N-Out on Sunday, by the way."

"Oh, no problem," you said, making a gesture with your hand. "It was fun."

"Yeah," Ethan agreed. "I can't stop thinking about those burgers now," he commented, laughing.

He wasn't the only person who couldn't get something off his mind. Luckily for Ethan, it was just a burger.

"So, what are you doing up?" Ethan asked.

"Couldn't sleep; thought some water would help."

"Did it?"

"Nope," you said, shaking your head. You tried to laugh it off, but Ethan could still see that something was really on your mind.

"Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'll be fine."

"Do you...maybe want to talk about it?" Ethan was hesitant to ask, fearing it may be a more serious or private matter.

You took a breath in, then paused, contemplating how to word your predicament in a way that didn't directly mention Ethan's name. Ethan, however, saw this as you being hesitant on sharing the matter.

Ethan began to retract his offer. "If you don't want to, you don't have t-"

"No," you interrupted. "No, it's just...I'm just trying to figure out how to tell the story without going on for hours." You made the excuse in the hopes that his response will buy more time for you to think about what to say.

Ethan nodded and took a final sip of water. "I've got time. If you want to talk for hours, that's alright."

"Well, alright then, where do I start? Let's see...okay. So,..." You started all the way back to when you first met Jackson. You mentioned the long road from friendship to relationship, and the ups and downs you've experienced in the last two and a half years with him. You were hesitant at first to get to the personal stuff, but Ethan assured you that he was fully invested emotionally. Slowly, it became easier for you to talk about Jackson, and you even went back and shared details that you had decided to keep to yourself just minutes earlier. In the thick of it all, you began to tell the story almost second by second, and Ethan was right there with you giving you his undivided attention, all the time nodding, laughing during the funny parts, and you were sure you saw his eyes watering when you got to the rough parts of your story. Seconds became minutes, which in turn, became hours. Still, Ethan was there for you, listening. As the hours passed by, it became more of a conversation as he began to share his own experiences with love. He mentioned how he had dated girls before, but never for too long.

"Why not?" you asked.

"I honestly don't know. All the girls I've ever dated asked  _me_ out, and I said 'yeah' 'cause I, uh...I was pretty jealous of my friends 'cause they were all dating someone and I felt left out-anyway, that's not the point. The point is...I just, wasn't really interested. You know I, uh...I don't think I've ever really liked a girl."

You looked up and stared straight ahead of you. Hearing him say that made time slow down and your heart pump a little faster, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact emotion you were feeling. What makes hearts beat fast? Is it fear? Are you nervous? Anxious? Excited? Whatever it was, you rarely felt it, but you recalled that it seemed somewhat similar to however you used to feel about Jackson. You knew it all this time. Why couldn't you admit it? Why couldn't you just admit to yourself that you were developing feelings for someone who just moved in to your house two weeks ago, not even a month after your breakup?

God, even hearing that in your head is ridiculous. Maybe that's why you weren't letting yourself feel these feelings. Maybe you were just still missing Jackson, and was hoping Ethan could be a replacement. You wouldn't put him through that. You wouldn't just construe him in your head as Jackson 2.0. He was his own person with his own personality, his own interests, feelings.

Feelings. Now you're just thinking in circles. You looked to your left, seeing the early morning twilight signal the coming of the sun, painting the sky a deep periwinkle. You returned from your thoughts to the outside world. Looking to your right, you saw Ethan, sitting casually, his eyes ever-so-slightly bloodshot. There was Something about this night that made you trust that this wasn't just you projecting your feelings and perception of Jackson onto the boy right next to you. Something about the external circumstances of this moment that caused you to make the decision inside of you to take a leap of faith.

"Maybe you might be into guys?"

The sentence left your mouth so quickly you couldn't hear yourself say it. Maybe it was for the better, for if you had heard yourself start the sentence, you probably would've stopped three words in. Ethan looked at you, his eyes giving off an air of suspicion, but open-mindedness. He raised his eyebrow in consideration. You apologized in your head about even asking him to consider such a huge aspect of himself, especially when you've only known him for, what, three weeks? As you opened your mouth to revoke your question, he casually answered.

"Anything is possible. I'm open to it."

* * *

Friday, February 10, 2017, 9:26 PM

It's important for one to take time out of their day to take a mental inventory, as it were, and have a conversation with theirselves from time to time - even daily. Sometimes, this can be used to step back and take a look at where they are, and where they want to be, and think about what needs to be done to get there. Sometimes, it can be used to think about how great their day was and remind themselves that life is good. Sometimes, life is shitty and they use this time to just complain. Mark, being someone who did things as efficiently as possible, is usually doing some sort of housekeeping during this time. Why not get organized inside  _and_ outside at the same time?

So here was Mark, washing the dishes and thinking about how much rain was coming down on California these past two months, and how came into work late today, and how lately you looked like something was bothering you, and Jack. Just...Jack. Every time Mark's mind rested on Jack, he found it hard to get his mind off it. The scene at Felix's kitchen replayed in his head incessantly, just like it had been for the past week. Guess Mark couldn't judge you for being a little distracted lately without feeling the slight bit hypocritical, seeing as he had his own distractions. Damn it. Mark thought he had been over Jack completely, and it only took a minute and a half in Felix's kitchen for thoughts of him to come rushing back in, crowding his mind. And just like that, Mark realized he had run out of dishes to wash for the night, but he couldn't move on until he had done something to rid his mind of Jack. In a blind frustration, Mark dried his hands off and dialed Amy's number into his phone. It was only when she picked up that he was realizing what he was about to do. But hey, if it gets the job done, so be it.

"Hey Amy, do you wanna maybe go out and do something with me tomorrow?"

* * *

Tuesday, February 14, 2017, 4:31 PM

"...and done."

Ethan clicked 'upload', then rolled himself away from his desk, spinning around so that he faced his bed. He took a deep breath of relief. Three weeks in and he was still on top of recording videos, but he felt like the work began to lose its fun. Lately, recording, editing, and uploading videos on a regular basis has felt like a chore, and Ethan looked down on himself for beginning to think that way.  _Come on, Ethan,_ he thought,  _you came out here to do what you love and to prove a point. It would definitely be a shame if you were to just-_

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. Ethan felt suddenly compelled to get up from his chair and head out into the hallway. "Hey, welcome back," he greeted, smiling.

"Hey," you smiled halfheartedly, walking past him and into your room, where you then dropped your stuff by the door and plopped down on to your bed.

Ethan followed you indoors. "How you feeling?"

You sighed. "Couldn't really think straight in class today."

Ethan walked over and sat down at the foot of your bed. "Talk to me."

There was a moment of silence before you started. "I don't know, lately I've just been...off." There was no better way to describe it. "You know what I mean? Like, not two months ago I was vibrant. I was working day in and day out and I felt fine. I felt like I could do anything. Now, I just...the easiest of days is enough to take me out. I had class for two hours today and I'm  _exhausted._ "

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Ethan acknowledged. "I was recording today for, like, three hours - usually not a big deal - but today I had to drag myself thorough it. I felt pretty bad after it. And now I have to put that on the internet knowing I didn't do my best."

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, letting the words that were spoken sink in, both of you wondering what had changed.

"Maybe it's all the change," Ethan suggested.

You sat up in your bed, interested. "What do you mean?"

"Well, two months ago, you were in a pretty stable relationship, and I was in Maine, and I guess when big changes happen, it kind of upsets everything and things come to a standstill for a little bit."

He had a good point. "Yeah, you're right. And it's pretty hard to get everything back to the way it was after everything settles."

"I think that's where the problem is," Ethan theorized. "Things can't go back to the way they were. We gotta reestablish. Reinvent. I think we just have to...to find ourselves again."

"We?" you asked.

"Not, like  _we_ _,_ but like 'we'. You know? Like, the two of us, but there's not really a-...you know..." Ethan attempted to clarify.

You nodded, letting out a small laugh. "Yeah, I get you," you assured, looking into his eyes. 

"Good." Ethan didn't break eye contact. Instead, he looked intensely back into your eyes with his warm evergreen gaze. You could feel him move closer to you, but you were unable to tell whether or not what you were experiencing was an illusion or reality.

Your mind began to panic, screaming at you to divert. "So, here's the deal. What if I show you a little bit of what I do, and you can show me a little of what you do. Maybe that'll help get things going," you proposed.

"That," he said, getting up from the bed and holding out his hand playfully, "sounds like an excellent idea." 

You took his outstretched hand, smiling, and got up from the bed, energized. You thanked him for his kind gesture.

"I don't think I've ever been in your room in the three weeks I've been here," Ethan pointed out, looking around.

"Well, in that case, welcome."

The rest of the day was filled with exploration of the other's interests, the dimming light of the setting sun taking your room through hues and shades of yellow and red. You might look back on this in the future and call it your first date, but all it is to you right now is a day well-spent.

* * *

Thursday, February 16, 2017, 12:38 PM

"Man, I forgot how much I missed the food here!"

From the outside in, it might've just been an ordinary taco, but to Felix, it was a warm welcome home to L.A. To Felix, he wasn't eating a taco, it was a  _taco._ It wasn't just meat and cheese, it was  _carne y queso._ And every bite of authenticity made home feel more like home. That's what good food does.

To Jack, it was just another taco, so when he looked up from his food and saw Felix taking bite after passionate bite, he thought he should say something.

"Jesus, dude. You're just some dramatic music away from looking like the main in a telenovela," he joked.

Felix paid little attention to Jack's remark. He simply gave a quick glance, and went back to eating  _con amor_.

Jack laughed at him in endearment, and looked away to take in his surroundings. He breathed in the damp, post-rain air around him, taking in the scent of the revitalized grass that encompassed the two of them. The sun peeked out briefly from a paper-thin layer of clouds, then slipped back behind them just as quickly. Jack felt a warm feeling he had seldom felt before, amplified by the presence of someone he quite liked. Nothing could ruin this day. "Hey, Mark-"

Felix looked up, one eyebrow raised in confusion. "What?"

Jack went on talking as if nothing strange had just happened. Only when Felix had interrupted did he realize he might've said something weird; he often misspeaks without realization. "What?" he replied.

"You just called me Mark."

"Oh, shit. Did I?"

"Yeah. Again."

"Oh, sorry."

"Wait, ok. The first time was fine, but this is like, the third time you've done it since he came over last week."

Jack's posture withdrew. "It's probably just, like a...um..."

Felix sat up. "Like a what? Did you know him or something?"

"Well...yeah."

"How?"

"It's nothing; don't worry about it."

"No, tell me. I wanna know," Felix pressed.

"Fine," Jack capitulated. "We used to date. He's, uh...he's the guy I left."

Felix sat up even taller, leaning toward Jack. "From like, a year ago? He's the guy you were talking about?"

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter now-"

"We'll, it seems to matter enough that you'd mess up my name," Felix joked.  

Jack took his hand and assured him, "Look, I promise you I'm past it. It was a long time ago, anyway. I guess...it was just a little bit of a shock to my system seeing him again after we split up. That was kind of the first time I'd seen him since, so...sorry if I seem a little distracted by it. The important thing is that I'm with _you_ now."

Felix nodded, and relaxed. "Okay. Sorry for bugging you about it, then."

The two went back to enjoy their lunch date, but in the back of Jack's mind, memories from years ago began to stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of update on Monday! Starting now, all updates will be on Friday between 1 and 4 pm PST. Thanks for sticking with the story!


End file.
